


Freefall

by OrangeMentats



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-09-25 21:59:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20378776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeMentats/pseuds/OrangeMentats
Summary: A collection of Dedue x Byleth ficlets.





	1. Chapter 1

Since Dimitri had taken him into his service four years earlier, Dedue’s whole life had revolved around the young prince. He had been grateful to Dimitri for saving his life and for treating him like a person, so unlike the treatment he had received from many of Faerghus’ other citizens. He owed the prince a debt and he intended to see it through. He was his sword and shield and would willingly die if it meant Dimitri would live to ascend the throne and bring peace to Faerghus.

Or so he had thought. 

He hadn’t thought he would question his convictions when he followed Dimitri to the Officer’s Academy, if anything he thought it would strengthen his resolve. He had bonded loosely with some of his fellow students although most of the time not at Dimitri’s side he spent alone. It was easier that way. Easier to ignore the insults and scornful looks. Easier not to get anyone else hurt. There was one person, however, that he found it hard to keep his distance from. 

He spent much of his free time in the greenhouse, tending to the flowers and even managing to cultivate some plants from his homeland with the precious few seeds he had saved from the tragedy four years earlier. The greenhouse was peaceful and it’s Keeper didn’t seem to mind his presence, even if she did mostly leave him to his own devices. He found himself in the greenhouse more often these days, if only for the chance to spend time with _her_. 

At first he had tried to avoid her, building up walls to prevent her attempts to get close to him. His Professor, although new to her role as a teacher and not the most expressive of people, had shown that she had cared about his wellbeing and his future and it meant a lot to him. He found her creeping into his thoughts more often, distracting him in class or while training. Dedue tried to shove the feelings away at first, what good would he be as Dimitri’s shield if he wasn’t focused? 

He would find his eyes lingering on his Professor when he ought to look away, found himself in her presence by accident as if she had some magnetic pull he couldn’t escape. He wondered if Dimitri had noticed, the blonde prince questioning him one day after catching him lost in thought during class. He had shrugged it off as if it were nothing – just a lack of sleep, he’d said – and continued on with his life. But deep down, he knew. He knew that he couldn’t avoid his feelings forever. 

He found solace in her presence and it seemed she found some in his, too. They would often spend hours in the greenhouse in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the other’s company. They didn’t need words. When they did talk their conversations were short, but warm. She liked to read in the greenhouse on her days off and sometimes he found his gaze on her while he pruned or watered the plants. She brought him happiness. He hoped he brought her some, too. It was foolish, he knew, pining after her like this. She was his Professor and she took her new role seriously, he couldn’t imagine her getting involved with a student – let alone someone like him. He also had a path to walk which he couldn’t stray from – he was destined to live and die for Dimitri and on that path there was no room for love. 

And yet he couldn’t escape his feelings. They took root in his heart and, like weeds, began to spread through every fibre of his being. He was finally forced to confront the truth of it all in battle; it should’ve been simple, fending off bandits attacking a local town, but it had been an ambush. He had been fighting side by side with his Professor and Dimitri when suddenly the teal-haired woman broke rank and sprinted toward their back line. Wild-eyed he could only watch as she dove to meet a bandit bearing down on Mercedes with an axe, frozen in place as the blade had connected with Byleth’s shoulder. Her yelp hit him right in the gut. 

He was moving on his own then, shouting to His Highness to fall back and running to her. The blow had only been glancing but it was enough to put her at a disadvantage and clearly the bandits saw an opportunity, two more advancing on her. She managed to kill one, even with her wounds, but by that point he was by her side, raising his axe to meet the one bound for her. He made short work of her attackers and turned to face her, his classmates already in the process of finishing off the stragglers. Mercedes was tending to the teal-haired woman’s wound, her magic knitting the gash back together before his eyes. 

He had raised his hand on instinct and cupped her face, simply glad she was safe. He thought he felt her lean into his touch. It was implausible, really, and more likely had just been his imagination. He couldn’t linger, as much as he wanted to. His duty to Dimitri called him off again, back to his Prince’s side to protect and guide him. But it was in that moment he knew, he wanted to be her shield as well. He wanted to live.


	2. Chapter 2

Byleth often found herself wandering the corridors of the monastery early in the morning - sleep seemed to escape her lately. What rest she did get was fitful, punctuated by nightmares that roused her well before the sun rose. Walking the empty corridors was relaxing, the staff and students just beginning to stir. She would see the odd person she knew but mostly it was the monks, priests and knights that were about at this hour. She had been at the monastery for a handful of months now and still hadn’t learned everyone’s names. There were too many to count and Byleth had never been good with names, perhaps because not many were worth remembering.

Her legs carried her toward the dining hall; she would often prepare something hearty for her students’ breakfasts if she was up this early and today was no exception. She wondered what she would cook today, porridge perhaps? It wasn’t particularly exciting but it was hearty and they were due for an intense training session… 

“People, no, _scum_ like you shouldn’t be here.”

Raised voices caught her attention as she made her way through the grand oak doors of the dining hall, her footsteps light as feathers as she approached. She had an inkling who would be on the receiving end of such a brutal verbal barrage and it was important that she caught the perpetrator in the act. 

“Filthy Duscur scum, always following the Prince of Faerghus around and for what, so you can turn on him like your people turned on his family?”

She exhaled harshly through her nose as her anger roiled in her stomach. She was so furious she could taste bile in the back of her throat. Dedue had told her in the past about the opinions many of Fodlan’s inhabitants still held about the people of Duscur but she had never been unfortunate enough to witness it herself until today. 

She prowled closer, using Dedue’s hulking form to cover her approach from the unsuspecting monk. If she was lucky he wouldn’t realise she was here until it was too late. She made her presence known by clearing her throat and gently placing her hand on Dedue’s shoulder. He seemed surprised to see her, jewel-green eyes widening for a moment as they met her gaze. She nodded to him in acknowledgement before turning the full force of her fury on the monk, who’s eyes seemed to be bulging out of his head at her sudden appearance. It was deliciously satisfying. 

“What exactly seems to be the problem here?”

Byleth began, hand rubbing against Dedue’s arm for a moment before releasing her grip and folding her arms. The monk’s gaze lingered on her hand for a moment before flicking between her face and that of the handsome, white-haired man beside her. 

“Problem? There’s no problem here at all ma’am.”

“Is that so.”

She said flatly, tilting her head to gaze up into the face of her student. His face, as usual, did little to show whatever emotions he was feeling inside. He was watching her closely and she thought she saw a hint of concern and surprise hiding in his features; she had spent enough time with him that she could pick up on the slight furrow of his brow or the way his lips curled downwards at the corners. Her steely blue gaze flickered back to the monk before her, fury evident in her tone when she spoke. 

“If I so much as hear a whisper that you have been speaking to my students like this again I will _personally_ report you to Lady Rhea for misconduct. Have I made myself abundantly clear?”

“Y-yes ma’am.” 

The monk stuttered, backing away with his hands held in front of him in surrender. 

“Good. Now get out of my sight.”

The monk practically fell over himself trying to get away from her. It gave her a little sick sense of pride that she hadn’t lost the ability to instil such fear in others. She had half expected people to stop fearing her since she had retired from mercenary life but clearly that wasn’t the case. 

“You didn’t have to do that. You _shouldn’t_ have done that.”

The white-haired man began with a sigh, rubbing his temple as Byleth turned to face him. 

“I wasn’t just going to stand idly by and let him insult you like that, you know that.” 

The professor said softly, placing her hand on his arm again. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? I- I just can’t stand that people talk to you like that. What right do they have to-“

He sighed again, shaking his head at her refusal to acknowledge his warnings.

“People will talk if you defend me like this. I have told you before, sooner or later your reputation will suffer if you are too close to me.”

She exhaled through her nose dismissively before meeting his gaze again. 

“Let them talk. If someone’s opinion of me is soured because I like spending time with you then their opinion isn’t one that matters.”

His gaze softened for a moment and he let out a soft huff of breath, appreciative of her concern and losing the will to argue with her. She was a stubborn woman whose opinion wasn’t swayed easily. 

She quickly turned her attention elsewhere, recalling her original reason for visiting the dining hall – breakfast. Her unfortunate run-in with the monk had cost her precious time which could’ve been spent preparing a meal for her students. Thankfully she now had a second pair of hands to help her with the task, the tall man following her like a shadow as she made her way toward the kitchen. They had done this many times before and quickly fell into a routine, grabbing ingredients and tending to pots with barely a word exchanged between them. As she reached for a jar of honey to drizzle into the porridge simmering on the stovetop her hand grazed his and a slight flush bloomed on her cheeks. She glanced up at him at the brief touch and found him watching her, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“Thank you, Professor. Your words… mean a lot to me. It would be a shame if I couldn’t spend time with you anymore.”

She smiled softly, dipping her head to hide the growing blush on her cheeks. It would be a shame if they couldn’t continue spending time in each other’s company, the greenhouse or the kitchen would be strange and empty without him there to accompany her. Gathering her thoughts, she offered the jar of honey to her companion with a smile which surely betrayed her thoughts.

“Yes, that would be a shame, but I can assure you I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this little scenario in my mind for ages but I'm not entirely pleased with how it turned out. I always imagined Byleth to be very protective of her students and wouldn't take kindly to the prejudice people show toward Dedue/Duscur in general.


	3. I felt the flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A gratuitous meeting in the training grounds because I'm weak.

It was Saturday morning and Dedue found himself without anything to do. Ashe and Ingrid had been assigned sky duty this week so while he would’ve normally found himself spending his Saturday weeding, today was an exception. Dimitri had decided to spend his time in the library and despite spending an hour or so hovering at the Prince’s side he had eventually been sent away. Although he liked the quiet of the library he always found that his hands were idle; it wasn’t his first preference on where to spend his free time. Idle hands didn’t suit him.

He had spent an hour or so tending to plants in the greenhouse, watering and pruning and harvesting where needed and was surprised not to see his Professor. It had become an almost unofficial routine that they would find each other in the greenhouse on weekends but, much to his disappointment, she hadn’t been there today. 

When he had done all he could in the greenhouse he found himself yet again without anything to do. It wasn’t yet time for lunch and he didn’t just want to wait around and so he found himself at the training ground, intending on doing a little training to keep his edge. He and his fellow students had seen combat over the last few months and although that, and the watchful eye of their Professor, had honed his skills there was always room for improvement. 

He had been trying to tell himself that the extra effort that he put into said training was for Dimitri’s benefit – that it was necessary to protect the future King of Faerghus – but deep down he knew it was only a half-truth. If he was honest with himself he just didn’t want to disappoint her, the enigmatic teal-haired woman who had started taking up far too many of his thoughts. He found his heart fluttering when he met her gaze in class or a flush of warmth in his cheeks if she got too close. He’d never felt like this before. He knew what these feelings meant, of course, and that he couldn’t act on them. She was an honourable woman and wouldn’t breach the position of trust she held over him. Besides, he would be kidding himself if he thought that she looked at him with the same fondness he felt for her. 

It would be just his luck that the object of his affections would enter the training grounds as he was warming up. He had turned when he heard the heavy doors groan behind him and spied the petite woman. She caught his gaze and he nodded slightly in greeting. She gave him a small wave in response. She was always happy to see him despite his warnings – he had told her on multiple occasions not to spend too much time in his presence or her reputation would suffer but she waved away his concerns every time. _‘If people want to talk, let them’_ had been her rebuttal. If he was honest with himself he was glad that she hadn’t taken his advice – he enjoyed spending time in her presence and would feel the loss of her friendship acutely. Even if he couldn’t express how he truly felt about her their friendship would suffice. 

She made her way to one of the training dummies and out of the corner of his eye he watched her shrug off her coat. It made sense, he supposed, it would only get in her way. She tied her teal hair into a messy bun and perused the rack of training weapons, his eyes trailing down the exposed skin of her nape as she did so. He had never seen her with her hair up; it felt like something his eyes shouldn’t see. She eventually settled on a sword – it was her weapon of choice, after all – and returned to her training dummy. 

He found himself watching her move; her lithe form was graceful where he was ham-fisted and brutish. She was elegant – effortless – and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Surely she was aware that he was watching. When she eventually stopped beating the stuffing out of the dummy he approached her, cautious. He didn’t wish to interrupt but her magnetic pull on him was far too strong. 

“Professor, will you train with me? I could use your guidance.”

She nodded her agreement and moved closer, arms folded across her chest. 

“Dedue, I’ve told you before, you don’t have to call me professor outside of class. But yes, I will train with you. I’ll observe you to begin with, then I’ll be able to pick on anything that needs improvement.”

He chose an axe to begin, it was no secret to either of them that his skill with an axe far outweighed his skill with gauntlets even though he had asked his Professor to tutor him in both. For some reason swinging an axe as if it were an extension of himself flowed better than having to coordinate both arms independently. She had always shown faith in his abilities, providing much needed praise and encouragement whether he chose to use an axe or gauntlets in class training sessions. He had barely broken a sweat swinging the training axe around and the training dummy was beginning to look a little worse for wear. He paused just long enough to switch his axe for a pair of training gauntlets and began his assault on the dummy again. When he had finally finished and removed the gauntlets his Professor moved in to give him her assessment.

“Your form with an axe is exquisite,” She began, clearly noting the slight upturn of his lips at her praise if the quirk of her eyebrow was to be believed. “Your brawling is getting better but your footwork still needs improvement. Fighting stance.”

She commanded and he obeyed like a finely oiled machine. She circled him for a moment, observing his form before correcting him. She started behind him.

A hand on his shoulder. He inhaled sharply.

“Straighten your back, don’t lean forward so much.”

A finger on his bicep. His gaze met hers.

“Arms up. Fists near your chin.”

A tap to his rear foot. 

“Turn your foot out slightly.”

His eyes followed her as she circled him again before coming to a stop in front of him. 

“Good.” She purred, letting her gaze flit over his stance to ensure she was satisfied. “Shall we begin?”

He nodded in agreement and immediately the pair sprung into action. Where he was brute strength, she was agility personified. She danced out of the way of his blows with ease and he grunted in frustration. 

“You need to be lighter on your feet, your enemy will not stand still.” 

He took her advice and landed a glancing blow on her arm, his face lighting up with satisfaction. They sparred until they were both sweaty and breathless, trading blows with each other until he was keeping up with Byleth’s lighter footwork. He wondered if she was humouring him, she was far faster and more skilled than he was.

“Good,” She panted, noticing him overstep and put himself off balance. 

“But what you need to remember when you’re brawling-“

She danced into range as he swung with his right arm and missed, only overstretching further. 

“-is that you always need to be prepared-“ 

Her foot connected with his ankle and she grabbed his shoulders, using his weight against him to bring him crashing to the floor. 

“-for your opponent to play dirty.” 

She panted, straddling his waist - victorious. 

He hadn’t expected to be caught in such a position, her on top of him, gazing down at him with satisfaction plain to see upon her features. Her face was flushed and he wondered if it was just from the exertion or if she, too, realised the implications of their position. He found himself caught in a moment of weakness, his gaze sweeping across the flat planes of her stomach where the black material of her bodice had ridden up out of her shorts. He hoped the hunger in his eyes did not betray him, furrowing his brow for a moment and averting his gaze. He couldn’t look away for long.

He couldn’t allow her to stay in her current position – for one, it was evidence of her victory and second it would soon be impossible for him to hide the effect she had on him. She shifted her weight atop him, clearly getting ready to move. He also wasn’t sure he was ready for this moment to end.

In a flash, his muscular arm reached up around her waist, large hand splayed across her side. She let out a squeak of surprise as he reversed their positions, flipping her onto her back as if it were no effort at all. He swallowed a groan as he stared down at her. She lay flustered underneath him, lips slightly parted, gazing at him through heavily lidded eyes. The way she looked at him ignited the blood in his veins. It took all his self-restraint not to lean down and press a kiss to her full, pink lips or bury his head in the crook of her neck. 

“Well played.” 

She laughed breathily, the smile on her lips a genuine one. It was then that he realised that his arm was still around her waist, his other holding himself above her. She didn’t seem to mind the proximity. Those doe-like blue eyes were alight with something he didn’t recognise, mirth perhaps? He wasn’t sure. 

He could’ve stayed like that forever but the creaking of ancient hinges and a familiar voice caught his attention. 

“Dedue?” 

The voice called and it was clear that the young Prince had come looking for him. The two often ate together on weekends, sometimes joined by other members of the Blue Lions, and it occurred to the older student that he had been sparring with Byleth for quite a while. He quickly pushed himself to his feet, dusting the dirt off his legs as he did so and swiftly offering a hand to his Professor. She took his hand and he hoisted her to her feet as gently as he could manage. She didn’t withdraw her dainty hand as quickly as he had expected and he dared to think it felt good to hold her hand in his. Byleth began dusting herself off as the young Prince approached although nothing she could do would tame the wild mane of hair atop her head. 

“Ah Dedue, Professor, have you been training all this time?” 

Dedue’s eyes glanced to the teal-haired woman beside him, nodding in acknowledgment. She nodded, too, offering the blonde student a small smile. 

“Mercedes, Annette and Sylvain are in the dining hall – they’re serving Saghert and Cream today. Do you want to join us?”

Dedue had already promised the future King that he would eat with him today, even if Saghert and Cream wasn’t one of his favourite meals. Their Professor seemed eager to accept the Prince’s invitation, hurrying to retrieve her coat before returning to Dedue’s side. To his surprise he felt her hand between shoulder blades as she worked to remove the dirt and dust from his back with a sly smile.


End file.
